Let the Games Begin
by digitalgetdown
Summary: His demon wanted to plunder her, to drink from her, to turn her. To make her his mate. His forever. While something else inside of him, something he can't entirely place his finger on, simply wanted her and at the same time wanted her to want him.


Author's Note: Season 2, Post-Reunion. AU. Minor crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. eventual Spike/Cordelia. Recognizable characters do not belong to me, merely torturing them for my fan fic pleasure. Reviews are lovely!

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Los Angeles, California  
>Christmas Eve<em>

Cordelia Chase was home. Alone, yet not really. It annoyed him. That she was alone on such a night. It annoyed him a great deal, it did. He tried to ignore the feeling. It wouldn't leave.

He stood just beyond her front door. Hidden behind a corner. Hidden in shadow. He stared at the door. Willed it to open, for her to step out. Willed himself to move, to knock. The door hadn't opened, she was still inside. And he felt rooted in place. He sighed, slumped against the wall and pulled out a worn pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He quickly took one of the smokes, stuffed the pack back into the inside pocket of his leather duster, and lit the end of the stick. Pressing the lit cigarette between his lips, he took a long drag. The lighter back in his pocket. "Come on, Spike," he muttered to himself, his fingers pulling the cigarette away from his lips. He slowly blew the smoke out, eyes still trained on the closed door of Cordelia's apartment. "It's just a silly bint. Hardly worth all the fuss."

When he finished his cigarette he lit another. And then another.

He blew out a frustrated breath, his pack of smokes completely finished. It was near midnight and he had yet to move from his spot behind the corner. Although he was seated on the ground instead. He really wanted to see her, to talk to her. To feel her. Yet he couldn't bring himself to knock on her damned door.

He briefly wondered if she was asleep. Then wondered if her co-workers from Angel Investigations would pay her a visit. They cared about each other, right? Like a bleeding family?

He scoffed. Right. If they cared, she wouldn't have been alone on Christmas Eve.

But she was. Although, she wasn't. Not really.

Because she had a room mate. Dennis. A ghost. Dead, but still there. Not quite alive. Kind of like him.

Spike smiled.

She probably found it convenient.

Especially because Dennis had taken a genuine liking to her. Like most would have.

After all, who wouldn't be drawn to Cordelia?

She was beautiful. Down right gorgeous. And if you were lucky enough to get passed her icy exterior, you would realize that the beauty wasn't just on the surface. She was beautiful from the inside and out.

She was the whole fucking package, as far as he was concerned.

He ran one hand through his bleached blonde hair. Wished that he had more smokes. Or a bottle of whiskey.

He chuckled. He should have gotten himself good and drunk before he had made the drive to Los Angeles. He had always done the most stupidest things when he was drunk. Knocking on Cordelia Chase's front door would definitely rank up high on the list of dumb things he had done. Especially since she had told him to stay away. The last time he had been in her presence.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't the time he had had Angel tortured. It was after.

She hadn't forgiven him for what he had done to her vampire boss. Of course, he hadn't asked for her forgiveness. Hadn't begged. For him, it was between him and his grandsire. It was no one else's business. And she agreed.

She couldn't forgive him when he had done nothing to her that warranted forgiveness.

So they ignored that part of their past. They ignored that he had kidnapped and tortured her boss for a ring that would have helped him kill the Slayer. And found that they were more alike than they had thought.

She lacked tact while he was brash.

They valued honesty above all else.

It was a definite beginning to friendship. Even something more.

He remembered he had kissed her that night. Or early morning, as it was. Almost one year ago. She had been drifting towards sleep and he hadn't been able to stop himself. He had always been love's bitch... And he had a preference for brunettes rather than blondes. Unlike his grandsire. It was easy for him to just lean his head forward and capture her lips against his. He remembered her soft cry of surprise. How his eyes had found her own and how they had slowly allowed their eyes to close as they had gotten lost in the kiss. It had started off slow, a light pressure of his lips against hers and then it had built. Until their tongues were dueling against the other. Her body was pulled tight against his, her legs wrapped around his waist. His hands beneath her shirt, cold finger pressed against the warmth of her bare skin... He shook his head, pulled himself away from his thoughts. Away from the past.

He had an urge to kiss her again. To see and feel for himself if the spark was still alive between them.

As he suspected it was.

While they had only shared that one kiss before her senses had returned and she had retreated into her bedroom, leaving him in the living room to sleep the sun away he was sure that the fire had not diminished in the least. She had stayed in his thoughts. Teased him in his dreams.

He wanted her. More so than before...

He stood suddenly. Approaching footsteps had caught his attention.

He slunk deeper into the shadows. Peered from behind the corner.

It was Giles Jr. and he wasn't alone. A taller, fitter man accompanied him. Black, bald and staring straight at him.

Spike was not intimidated in the least. He stared right back.

"Something wrong, Charles?" Giles Jr. asked.

Both men were now standing before Cordelia's front door.

'Charles' stared a moment longer before he shook his head. "Nah, man. Probably nothin'." He turned his attention to the closed door, fist lifted and ready to knock. "Barbie better not be sleepin', brah."

Giles Jr. rolled his eyes as the other man knocked and Spike finally noticed the gifts. They each held two rectangular boxes, each wrapped with different gift wrap, each with designs depicting Christmas in one way or another.

"She'll be awake. It was, after all, her suggestion of exchanging presents at midnight. Although, I still believe that it could have waited a while longer, like in the morning. When the sun is out."

Charles replied, but Spike was no longer listening.

Because the door was opening and Cordelia was finally in his line of sight.

Spike took an unneeded breath. Gasped softly, almost mutely.

"Right on time, guys," she grinned at them.

He was unable to keep from smiling himself. Her smile was infectious. And she looked wonderful. Cordelia donned in fitted black pants and a red sweater, a Santa hat atop her head.

Damn, she was beautiful.

He kept his eyes on her until she had disappeared behind the door once again. This time with company. This time she wasn't alone. Not that she really was before. And after a moment, he walked away. Back to the DeSoto with its blackened windows. He'll wait until later to visit her again. Until the sun had risen and fallen once more.

This time, he'll knock.

And if he was lucky, get invited inside once more.

Not that he would really need it. He had been invited inside once already. And once was enough for a vampire.

If he really wanted to, it would be easy enough to get inside her apartment. Even with her ghost.

But he kind of thought against it.

His demon wanted to plunder her, to drink from her, to turn her. To make her his mate. His forever. While something else inside of him, something he can't entirely place his finger on, simply wanted her and at the same time wanted her to want him.

He wanted to pursue her, but first he wanted her go-ahead.

Spike pondered what that meant.


End file.
